


Robot Rasa

by jashinist_feminist



Category: Naruto
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, Clones, F/M, Robot/Human Relationships, Robots, nonconsensual cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:00:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21535591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jashinist_feminist/pseuds/jashinist_feminist
Summary: Tired of juggling work and family commitments, Rasa seeks out Sasori for a rather unusual solution...
Relationships: Karura/Rasa (Naruto), Sandaime Kazekage | Third Kazekage/Sasori
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19
Collections: Naruto Sci-fi Week 2019





	Robot Rasa

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my contribution for Naruto Sci Fi Week! I have been so excited to share this with you all! <3
> 
> It was heavily inspired by the tv series Humans and the Black Mirror episode 'Be Right Back.'

Work, family, sleep, repeat, was the mantra to Rasa’s life. Fuelled by coffee and the occasional whiskey shot, he had navigated a marriage, three children, and a forty-five hour week career. That forty-five hour a week career had slowly been creeping up to fifty, sixty, and soon Rasa knew he would have no time left for his family, let alone himself.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, he decided.

And so he found himself sitting in front of Sasori.

Sasori called himself an artist, although technically, he specialised in building androids. Sasori had worked for a corporation, before he decided to go freelance and work on his own creations at his own pace. Rasa couldn’t help but sympathise there. Freelancing wasn’t really an option in his career, but he had to wonder if there were...any other reasons that Sasori had adopted the freelance life.

“A robot Rasa, you say,” said Sasori, his lidded eyes dreamy.

“Yes,” said Rasa, through gritted teeth.

“You want him to look like you, speak like you, do all the things that you do?”

“That is correct,” said Rasa.

Sasori leant forwards, and put his hands together, leaning his chin on the tips of his fingers. “In effect, you’d like a way to be in two places at once.”

Rasa shifted uncomfortably. “Doesn’t every working dad wish that?”

“How sweet,” crooned Sasori. “I remember my parents.”

Rasa’s eyes drifted over to a picture displayed behind Sasori’s desk, of a young Sasori being swung between a red-haired man like him and a dark-haired woman with his grey-brown eyes. Another picture showed a slightly older Sasori, held between the same two people, but something about them...seemed different. Stiffer, maybe.

“I need to be there for my three kids,” explained Rasa. “I’m working all the time. My lovely wife Karura does everything for them, and I can’t leave everything to her all the time, she needs support.”

“How sweet,” repeated Sasori.

“Do you have a wife?” asked Rasa.

Sasori licked his lips. “No.”

“Do you think you can help me?” asked Rasa.

Sasori leant back in his chair. “Most certainly.”

Sasori took Rasa’s height, his weight, and an x-ray. He took a full body scan, and then a sample of Rasa’s hair. He even took pictures, for a reference point. Rasa felt eerie, knowing that Sasori now had a visual recollection of his own features in his possession. Sasori measured Rasa’s hands, his feet, his legs, his arms, his torso, waist, and reluctantly, his groin.

When it was complete, Sasori clapped his hands together. “Perfect. I shall begin work immediately. I require a deposit before I commence work. I don’t like to keep people waiting, and so your robot replicate will be completed by the end of the week. Are you sure this is what you want?”

Rasa nodded, thinking of the endless pile of dishes that he and Karura wouldn’t have to wash. “Sure. This is going to make such a positive difference to mine and my wife’s life.”

“As you say,” said Sasori.

* * *

Rasa clamoured into his car, switched on the engine, and pulled out of the parking lot. Doubts and uncertainties kept whirling around his mind, but he knew he was doing the right thing. He had to be. He was rushed off his feet at work, and there was no possible way it was ever going to slow down. And his family needed him too, so now he’d found a way to be in two places at once. This would be fine.

Rasa pulled up outside his house, being greeted by the family cat Shukaku staring judgmentally at him from the front doorstep. He hissed at Rasa when Rasa fished in his pocket for his keys, before spinning on his paws and marching straight into the house before Rasa could.

“Hello?” called Rasa, removing his shoes and laying them on the shoe rack. He could already smell something warm and savoury, and hear the loud bursts of chatter from the kitchen. Rasa made his way towards the light and sound, socked feet creaking on the wooden floor. “Hello? Sorry I’m late...again, I know.”

His middle child, Kankuro, stuck his head out of the kitchen door. “Oh, you’re back. I already ate half your dinner and I was going to give the rest to Shukaku.”

“Shukaku needs cat food!” protested his youngest, Gaara.

“Charming,” scolded Rasa. “And yet I earned the money that paid for the food, is that correct?”

“Mum made it,” protested Kankuro, as Rasa entered the room.

The first thing he did was wrap his arm around Karura’s waist and kiss her cheek, murmuring “hello dear,” and then reached down to ruffle Gaara’s red hair. Gaara gave a small giggle, before hugging Rasa around the waist. Rasa leant across and kissed his eldest daughter, Temari, on the forehead, and then stopped at Kankuro.

“Do I not get a hug?” asked Rasa.

“Fifty quid,” retorted Kankuro.

“Stop that!” interrupted Karura. “Rasa, dear, I saved some dinner for you, it’s in the oven on a low heat. Kankuro, you cannot feed curry to a cat.”

“He likes it,” sulked Kankuro.

Temari kicked her younger brother under the table. “And he got the shits, remember?”

“Temari, language!” tutted Karura.

“Sorry mama,” said Temari. “But you said it too. And worse words.”

“That’ll do!” sighed Rasa. “It’s not a competition. How was everyone’s day?”

“Dad, at school, we played in the sandpit outside and made castles, and mine was the biggest!” announced Gaara.

“Awww, clever boy!” Karura bent down, plonking a kiss on Gaara’s scar on his forehead.

“Well done, lad,” said Rasa. “Did you play with your friends?

Gaara nodded eagerly, and then stuffed an onion bhaji in his mouth, chewing away cheerfully. Whenever Rasa was around his family, his heartbeat slowed but became more audible, and he knew that it was with love. They deserved more of his time, and Rasa wished he could provide that, in the same way he had provided them with financial security and a nice house.

When he was younger, he hadn’t had any of that.

Rasa glanced up, and then blinked with surprise when Karura laid a plate in front of him. She smiled, and Rasa felt his heart twist. She deserved better than rushing around after their three kids and making them dinner and catering to him all the time. She needed more support so she could have more time to herself to do the things she liked doing, like growing her herb garden, picking up more hours at her part-time job, visiting her friends.

The robot would solve everything.

* * *

By the end of the week, Rasa was typing away at work, when he heard laughter from the Third Boss’s office. He frowned, and peered in, witnessing Sasori’s shock of red hair bobbing above the photocopier.

The door opened, and Sasori stepped out, heading towards Rasa. Rasa continued to type, slower and more warily now.

“The task is complete,” he stated.

“What task?” asked Rasa.

Sasori tilted his head. “The robot, of course.”

Rasa swallowed, wondering what it was going to be like to stare at his carbon copy in the face. “When can I have him?”

“Whenever you want,” replied Sasori. “Although...I would probably drive over to pick him up. And bring some clothes. He’s currently naked.”

Rasa was flabbergast. “Why is he...naked?”

“Because I didn’t have any clothes for him,” retorted Sasori. “I spent all this time making _him_ , and now you expect me to make a wardrobe of clothes as well?”

“What does he need to wear?” asked Rasa. “A uniform?”

“Your clothes will do,” said Sasori shortly. “You’re the same size, exactly.”

Rasa had an entire wardrobe of things that Karura had bought him, and so he knew that wouldn’t be a problem. But the idea of what was fundamentally a clone of himself, sitting naked in Sasori’s house, that Sasori had created and looked at...was unnerving.

“Fine,” said Rasa. “I’ll drive over and pick him up tomorrow.”

* * *

The next day, Rasa packed extra clothes, socks and shoes for Robot Rasa, along with his card, his cheque book, and cash, just in case. He pulled up in the parking lot after work, and grabbed the bag of clothes. He knocked on the door to Sasori’s house, peering through the window at the closed curtains. Sasori emerged in the doorway, clutching a mug.

“Good evening,” greeted Sasori.

“I’ve come to collect him,” said Rasa gruffly. A beat thudded at the bottom of his stomach, that he felt pressing against the wall of his gut.

“Come in,” said Sasori.

He led the way in, to show Rasa his duplicate.

Robot Rasa sat on a dining chair, his hands in his lap, folded neatly. His eyes were closed, and his face was relaxed. A charging lead was attached to his tailbone from the main plug beside the floor, and he did not move.

He was completely naked.

Rasa stared, utterly fascinated and partly horrified at how closely Sasori had managed to create his likeness. The exact same spatter of freckles ran along Robot Rasa’s shoulders, he had the same worried expression even with his eyes closed in rest. Rasa glanced down, blushing a little when he recognised the exact copy of his manhood, and the scar on his thigh where a smaller Temari stabbed him with a biro pen because he wouldn’t let her draw on the walls.

“He’s...me,” whispered Rasa.

“Not quite,” said Sasori. “I need your phone.”

Rasa gazed suspiciously at Sasori. “What for?”

Sasori raised his eyebrows. “Before I started working for myself, I used to work for Akatsuki Enterprises. Have you heard of them?”

“Yes, they make robots too,” said Rasa. He tilted his head to the side. “What’s this got to do with anything?”

“I was hired by them to complete work into making robots that are more lifelike than ever before,” explained Sasori. “And it’s all down to what I call my authentic artificial intelligence programming.”

“Er...your what?” asked Rasa, thinking that was a lot of words.

“Authentic artificial intelligence programming,” replied Sasori. “Let me tell you about a lovely young couple called Yahiko and Konan. They grew up and went to school together, childhood sweethearts. Then Yahiko passed away, and Yahiko’s best friend, hoping to cheer Konan up and replace the hole in their lives, ordered a robot copy of Yahiko.”

“Oh,” said Rasa.

“Here’s the twist. Konan hated the thing. She said it was creepy, and nothing like Yahiko. And yet she couldn’t bring herself to destroy it or order it to self-destruct because it was too much like Yahiko to get rid of. Nagato hired me for their company to find a way to make robots more lifelike, more like the human they are replicating, than ever before!”

“And?” Rasa tilted his head.

“I do this by programming the robot’s artificial intelligence with the human’s social media information,” explained Sasori. There was an excitable lilt to his voice. Clearly, he was passionate about his work. “Everyone has a digital footprint. Things they’ve posted online, pictures they’ve shared, blogs, messages, memes-”

“The Me Me things?” asked Rasa.

“Memes,” corrected Sasori. “All of that leaves a footprint, which is a collation of all the things you are. Your opinions, values, even the tone you speak with. Collect all that data, and process it into an artificial lifeform? And you have the perfect clone of you.”

Rasa blinked. “And did...Konan like the updated Yahiko?”

Sasori glanced away. “I had limited working material. He’d been gone for a while, so his digital footprint was outdated. He didn’t learn any fresh material, and so he could never update. But he…”

Sasori turned to face the sleeping naked Robot Rasa.

“Will,” finished Sasori.

Rasa breathed heavily. An up-to-date, knowledgeable authentic copy of himself would be much better than a cold, eerie clone. Perhaps, even Karura, who knew Rasa better than he knew himself, wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference.

“What do I have to do?” asked Rasa.

Sasori held out his hand.

Rasa reluctantly held over his phone. Sasori tapped away, installing an app, and then pressed upload. There was a glow behind Robot Rasa’s closed eyelids, and a whir as he sat up straighter.

“You see?” said Sasori. “He’s mimicking your posture, based on a text that your wife sent you. Want to talk to him?”

“I want him to put some clothes on,” said Rasa, realising the new pose showed off the naked robot’s manhood even more, including his vasectomy scars. That was just embarrassing.

“Ok,” said Sasori. “Rasa, wake up!”

Robot Rasa’s eyelids slid upwards. Rasa jolted, realising that the robot had the exact same shade of his eyes.

“Hello Rasa,” said Sasori. “How are you feeling?”

“I am tired,” stated Robot Rasa.

“How can he be tired? He’s a robot, he can’t get tired,” scolded Rasa.

“He’s copying your texts!” retorted Sasori. “Look at all the messages you sent Karura, telling her how tired you were after work.”

“There are 174 messages to Karura, mentioning the word tired,” replied Robot Rasa.

“You see?” asked Sasori.

“Yes,” said Rasa, irritably. He held out the bag of clothes. “Rasa, put these on!”

The Robot Rasa glanced down. “I am naked!”

“Yes, you are,” said Sasori.

“Inappropriately dressed people have no dignity,” stated Robot Rasa. He stood up, and then accepted the bag of clothes from Rasa. Each one of his moves was swift, efficient, and designed to conserve energy. Rasa watched as he pulled on his boxers, his socks, then his trousers, and shirt. Finally, he put on his shoes, before standing up again.

“You can have your phone back,” said Sasori, handing Rasa his phone. “Keep texting, keep emailing, using social media. The more material he has, the more he will learn, and the more like you he will be.”

“Am I able to take him home?” asked Rasa.

“After payment,” said Sasori.

* * *

Rasa paid Sasori, and accepted the charging cable for Robot Rasa. He guided him out of the house, and towards the car.

“Would you like me to drive, Rasa?” asked the robot.

“No, I can,” replied Rasa.

“Are you sure?” asked Robot Rasa. “I have been programmed to react appropriately to hazards within 0.01 seconds of occurring, and with my vision that can calculate angles, am competent at parallel parking.”

“I can drive _fine_ ,” scowled Rasa, unlocking the car.

“Your son Kankuro told you that if you attempted a driving test in the present day, you would fail miserably,” replied Robot Rasa.

“Well, Kankuro is a ten year old, so when he’s old enough to get his own licence, then we’ll talk,” glowered Rasa, opening the car door and sliding into the car seat.

Robot Rasa copied, climbing into the front passenger seat. “Your wife Karura said your car is bigger than your sense of road safety, as well another part of your body.”

Rasa’s seatbelt, which he had just been pulling across himself, snapped and slapped him in the face.

“We have the same anatomy,” scolded Rasa, reaching back for his seatbelt. He switched on the car, and then signalled to pull out. Along the way, he stopped at every junction, checked his mirrors consistently, and signalled in good time. Robot Rasa did not pass a single comment, and when Rasa arrived at his house, he pulled up on the driveway beside Karura’s car, parking with a nice, wide berth between them.

“Well, time to say hello,” said Rasa. “Come this way.”

He led the Robot Rasa into the house.

* * *

Karura sat on the sofa, with her arms wrapped around Temari and Kankuro. Gaara snuggled on her lap, and Shukaku the cat sat on her feet. The television blared blue light at them, as they watched the family film together.

There was a rattle of keys in the front door.

“I’m home dear!” called Rasa. “I’ve got a surprise for you!”

“What is it?” Karura called back.

Karura fully expected the surprise to be some ice cream to share with the kids, but then Rasa walked into the living room, followed by Rasa himself. Immediately Karura leapt with shock, and clutched Gaara tightly. Both Temari and Kankuro sprang upright, and Shukaku jumped up, before releasing the angriest hiss that Karura had ever heard.

“There’s two of you!” cried Karura.

“That’s right!” said Rasa cheerfully.

Karura stared, wide-eyed, at her husband, and at the doppelganger. “Where...where did he come from? Is he a clone? Is this a prank?”

“He’s a robot,” explained Rasa. “He’s here to help us. Say hello to Karura, Rasa.”

“Hello sugar-tits,” said Robot Rasa.

“What did he say?” demanded Karura.

“No, Rasa, no!” scolded Rasa. “Not in front of the kids!”

“Is this not an appropriate greeting for my wife?” asked Robot Rasa.

“MY wife!” shouted Rasa. “And no, it’s not!”

“I apologise,” said Robot Rasa. “But you referred to your wife as sugar-tits in several text messages.”

“Eww!” shouted Temari.

“Rasa, get that thing out of here!” cried Karura. “It’s scary for the children.”

“I think it's cool!” announced Kankuro.

“I don’t like it, I like the real dad,” Gaara’s lower lip wobbled.

“I’ve bought him to help us!” shouted Rasa. The room went silent, staring. “I’ve bought him to help us. You know I’ve got a lot on my plate at work, and I’m not around here to help you guys. Well, now you have me in two places at once.”

“Rasa, that is not you!” cried Karura. “That is a robot!”

“He’s programmed to look like me, talk like me and act like me,” said Rasa. “He is me.”

“I dislike olives,” announced Robot Rasa.

“See?” asked Rasa.

Shukaku puffed up his fur and tail, and then yowled angrily at the Robot Rasa. Rasa grabbed a stray water bottle, and squirted Shukaku in the face. Shukaku hissed furiously, before running out the room, his wet tail between his legs.

“Dad! You hurt Shukaku!” cried Gaara.

“He was being a bad cat,” scolded Rasa. He turned to Robot Rasa. “If Shukaku is naughty, spray him with this.”

“I have a question,” demanded Karura.

“Yes, dear?”

“Where are we going to store him?”

Rasa held up the charger. “We have to charge him every night. I was thinking we could put him on the armchair in our room.”

“Absolutely not,” Karura shook her head. She turned to Robot Rasa. “You don’t go in any of the children’s rooms, do you understand?”

“Yes,” said Robot Rasa. “Darling.”

* * *

“I don’t like that thing,” Karura jabbed a finger at Robot Rasa, as he helpfully laid two mugs of tea in front of her and Rasa, the following morning.

“Why not?” asked Rasa, accepting his tea.

“He’s weird,” insisted Karura. “He’s wearing your clothes.”

“We’re the same size,” said Rasa. “It’s cheaper and more convenient than buying a whole separate wardrobe for him.”

“It’s unnerving,” Karura went on. “He looks like you, but he doesn’t look act like you, he does all the things you’re meant to, but he’s not you!”

“Of course he’s not me, he’s just here to ease the pressure off me. So I can work and bring in the money so we can have nice things, while he’s here, helping you out. Problem solved,” Rasa leant across the table and kissed her powdered cheek.

Karura didn’t look convinced. “He doesn’t say nice things to me like you do.”

“Your body weight is within the acceptable range for your height, age and ethnicity,” stated Robot Rasa.

Karura spluttered. “Rasa! Did you hear that?”

“It’s his way of saying that you have a lovely figure, dear,” assured Rasa. “He’s an AI, so he’s still learning things like emotional intelligence.”

Karura still not look convinced, and sipped at her tea.

“Dad! I’m running late because Shukaku has been sleeping my school jumper!” shouted Temari, bounding down the stairs two at a time. “Can you drop me off on the way to school?”

“And me!” shouted Kankuro.

“You can run!” ordered Rasa. “I’ll be late for work!”

“Good morning Temari. Good morning Kankuro. I can drive you to work,” said Robot Rasa.

Temari wrinkled her nose. “No thanks, that’s about as safe as one of those crazy driverless cars.”

“I can assure you that I am a competent driver, as I am programmed to react to hazards within a safe period of time, and have less points on my license than your father,” replied Robot Rasa.

“Drive us!” insisted Kankuro, emerging in the hallway. “It’ll be great fun! GAARA! ROBOT DAD IS GOING TO DRIVE US!”

“No, no, what did I tell you last night? You are not taking my car!” ordered Rasa. “I need the car to take myself to work.”

“I could take Karura’s car, as you have joint insurance,” said Robot Rasa.

“No, that’s my car! Leave it alone,” ordered Karura.

“No, you stay here!” ordered Rasa. “You stay here, and clean the house, and make it nice for when everyone comes home. You cook dinner with what we’ve got in the fridge and the freezer, but you do not take anyone’s cars, you don’t go anywhere, do you understand?”

“Yes, Rasa,” said Robot Rasa.

Temari looked unimpressed. “Do I still not get a lift then?”

“I’ll take you,” offered Karura.

And like that, the family were off.

* * *

Karura returned home at around half past nine, and was practically unsettled to witness the Robot Rasa emptying the dishwasher.

“Your dishwater had not been emptied for two days, despite the fact that the cutlery and crockery was clean,” stated Rasa.

“Yes, thank you...Rasa,” said Karura, the name of her husband strange on her lips, as she addressed the robot.

“That is quite all right, dear,” said Rasa. “I shall clean the bathroom next. You may relax on the sofa and watch a film. I will bring you coffee and refreshments.”

“I...think I’m all right, thanks,” said Karura, unnerved. “In fact, I think I’m going to work in the garden.”

Karura dashed outside, and shut herself in the garden shed, reaching for her gardening gloves and pads for kneeling on. Something about being in the house alone with that...thing unnerved her.

At least the house would soon be clean. Karura exhaled, and then slipped back out.

Inside the kitchen, Robot Rasa disappeared from her view, and went upstairs to clean the bathroom.

* * *

Rasa did not return home until gone seven pm, and by that time Robot Rasa had cooked and served dinner. The house was tidy and clean, and Rasa could swear that he could see his face in the shiny reflections on the surfaces.

“Dad!” Gaara called. “Dad! Robot dad has thrown Shukaku out in the garden!”

“Good!” retorted Rasa. “It was about time someone disciplined that bloody cat.”

“But dad, it’s raining,” whined Gaara.

“The cat is an animal, and animals do not belong in a home,” said Robot Rasa.

Rasa recognised the words, knowing he had texted them to Karura while in a bad mood. It was true that Rasa wasn’t the fondest of Shukaku, but they’d got him at Gaara’s insistence when they’d taken the children to an animal rescue centre, with the aim of finding a cuddly puppy. Gaara adored him, and loved snuggling his face into the cat’s fur. Usually Shukaku slept on Gaara’s pillow, purring in his low rumbling voice.

But Shukaku hated nearly everyone else, had scratched and bitten Rasa, and even drawn blood.

He belonged in the garden.

“Robot dad is right, animals belong outside,” scolded Rasa. “Shukaku gets hair all over the sofa and the carpets, and look how much nicer and cleaner it is in here!”

“I don’t care if the house is clean or dirty!” protested Gaara. He stood up, and ran out of the room on his skinny legs. “You’re mean, you lot!”

“Robot dad showed me where his wiring is under his silicone skin, and he helped me with my school projects,” announced Kankuro. “I’m going to do a presentation to the class about the beginnings of robots and I’m making a slide all about Sasori-”

“Sasori?” asked Karura.

“Yes, he’s one of the best robot developers there is!”

“Sasori is a creator of true art,” stated Robot Rasa.

Rasa paused. If Sasori was one of the best robot developers in the world, why was he working from his old Victorian home? Surely he would have a state of the art laboratory and still be employed by one of the many companies producing robots all over the world…

“He’s well known, of course it would,” said Rasa. He turned to Kankuro. “Why don’t you come and practise your presentation to me when you’re done?”

“No thanks, robot dad has already seen it,” said Kankuro.

“Oh,” said Rasa. He turned to his remaining child. “How was your day, Temari?”

“Robot dad ordered me a new pairs of jeans,” said Temari.

“What? Why did he do that?” asked Rasa, thinking of the several pairs of jeans that Temari had folded up in her drawers.

“All of Temari’s jeans had rips in,” replied Robot Rasa.

“I thought they were meant to have rips in,” frowned Rasa.

“You didn’t at first,” said Temari.

Rasa remembered the first time he’d seen Temari in a pair of ripped jeans, and had asked her if she was going to take those back to the shop because they had a hole in, only for her to roll her eyes at him and say they were meant to be like that.

He frowned. “Just how did he pay for them?”

“I used your PayPal account,” replied Robot Rasa.

“What?” demanded Rasa. “Who said you could use that?”

“You didn’t tell me not to use it,” replied Robot Rasa.

“You are not to use my PayPal! Or my credit cards! Or take money from my wallet!” exploded Rasa.

“My apologies,” said Robot Rasa.

“Do I still get the jeans?” asked Temari.

Rasa sighed.

* * *

Sasori sipped his tea, staring at his latest work in progress. His phone began to ring, and so he pulled it out, recognising Rasa’s number. “Hello?”

“The robot,” said Rasa quickly. “I need to speak to you about the robot.”

“What about him?” asked Sasori, swinging his legs on his stool. “Don’t you like him?”

“He’s...weird!” insisted Rasa. “He’s...hitting on my wife, spending more time with my kids, he’s blunt, he’s rude, and keeps trying to drive my car!”

“It’s no wonder he’s hitting on your wife and spending time with your kids, he’s based on you!” retorted Sasori. “He’s merely repeating the behaviour he sees from you. And as for the bluntness, maybe you ought to check the tone of the messages you sent people.”

Rasa stopped, silently chewing his lower lip. “He still used my credit card!”

“Did you tell him not to?”

“No.”

“Well, there is your answer,” said Sasori.

“I’m still not happy with him!” insisted Rasa.

“He will learn and you will grow used to him. He’s still learning - his interactions with your family and the commands you give him will teach him. Aren’t you impressed with his cleaning skills?”

Rasa chewed his tongue again. “Fine. But if he hits on my wife again, I’ll cut off his dick, and mail it back to you.”

“I hope you don’t,” said Sasori. “It took me quite a while to get the appearance of that dick completely anatomically correct.”

Rasa shuddered, almost dropping the phone. “You are weird,” he stated into the mouthpiece. “And I’ve got my eye on you.”

* * *

Karura wandered downstairs one morning, wrapped in a pair of yoga bottoms, a cotton t-shirt, and a cream shawl. Robot Rasa was in the kitchen. He mechanically laid her morning tea before her, brewed to the exact precise standard that she liked, and then a plate of granola, served with honey and yoghurt.

Karura sat down, and eyed him warily. She still didn’t like that thing being in the house.

“You look particularly nice today, Karura,” announced the robot.

Karura frowned. This was a strange leap from hearing him describe her as having ‘the correct weight for her height.’

“Thank...you?” asked Karura.

* * *

Robot Rasa gazed over the sleeping figure of Karura. She slept on her side, one hand on her pillow, wheat blonde hair spilled across the cotton, her body curled, as if waiting for someone to come and tuck themselves around her.

That someone was Rasa.

Real Rasa.

She wouldn’t want Robot Rasa.

And yet Robot Rasa longed to know what the feel of a warm, beating human body would be like against his silicone skin. Everytime a text fired off from Rasa, an email to his colleagues, or a post on his social media, Robot Rasa felt it shoot through him too. Love. Love for Karura. In all his correspondence, Real Rasa loved his wife.

And Robot Rasa felt the digital echo thrumming through his wires, until he wished his heart could beat too and he could hold someone in his arms.

It was so easy to undress and slip back the covers. Robot Rasa’s skin sensors had never sensed a warm cotton duvet. The mattress sagged beneath him, a mold curving out from his body. Laying his head on the pillow, he thought to himself how nice it felt.

He rolled onto his side, and spotted the back of Karura’s blonde head, the gentle curve of her neck, and her shoulders rising and falling lightly. She wore a white chemise, clinging to her figure, the straps slipping down in her shoulders.

Robot Rasa leaned across, his fingers trailing through the wheat blonde hair. It felt smooth and slippery to touch. Karura stirred, before burrowing closer into her pillow, her back more closely revealed to him.

_She must want me to hug her._

Robot Rasa inched closer, and wrapped an arm over her waist, pressing his face against the crook of her neck and her shoulder. He inhaled, the sensors in his nose registering the smell of lemongrass, the faint traces of her patchouli perfume, and her comforting, motherly scent. His hand lay across her belly, soft from the growing of her three children and the years that had passed.

For a moment it was perfect.

Karura stirred. “Rasa? Is that you?”

Robot Rasa reached for the words he knew when greeting the family.

“Hello Karura,” he announced, before he could stop himself.

Karura froze, and then leapt upright. Robot Rasa tried to hold on, not wanting to loosen the embrace, but Karura fought against him, staring down with her wide, cornflower blue eyes.

“What the-?” Karura broke off. “Oh my god! What are you _doing_? You’re a _robot_!”

“Rasa was absent, so I did as he commanded in his absence,” replied Robot Rasa, knowing that it was a bland mechanical response, but knowing that there was little way he could describe how he felt. “Cook, clean, look after Karura-”

“Trying to sleep with me was not on the list! I want my husband, not a sex dollie!”

“I did not want to have sex, I wanted a hug,” said Robot Rasa. “But if you would like to have sex, you can activate my Adult Mode.”

Karura stared at him, horrified. “Get out. Get out of my bed. Get downstairs, and sit on the sofa.”

Robot Rasa did as she commanded, while she followed, clutching a dressing gown around herself. He obediently sat on the sofa, wondering if she would join him, if a sofa was a more appropriate setting for a hug, when she pulled out the manual.

Karura flicked determinedly to the page she wanted, and then stood in front of him.

A hand stretched forwards.

Then everything went black.

* * *

When Rasa himself returned home, he grunted at the sight of Robot Rasa perched on the sofa, and figured he must be charging. He hauled himself up the stairs, only to discover Karura sprawled across their bed, with Gaara sitting upright on one side, iPad in hand.

“Gaara, what are you doing? You should be sleeping!” ordered Rasa.

“I can’t sleep,” complained Gaara. “I’m never sleepy.”

Rasa sighed. Gaara’s sleeping problems had existed since he was a baby, when he would sit up in bed prodding and poking Rasa and Karura, chattering away and trying to get them to play. They’d taken him to the paediatrician several times, but each time come away with no solution, usually being accused of not putting him to bed in a timely fashion. The only thing they could think of was to find ways for Gaara to keep himself entertained while he couldn’t sleep.

“Go on, get back in your bed,” said Rasa.

“Mum wants me to stay here,” announced Gaara.

“What for?”

“She’s mad at you!” said Gaara. “Since you brought the robot dad here. She said if you come home tonight, you have to sleep in my bed. Shukaku’s there. He brought us a dead mouse.”

Rasa sighed, before grabbing his pyjamas and sulkily finding his way to Gaara’s room, where Shukaku lorded it over the pillow.

* * *

“I want to talk to you,” Karura barged in front of Rasa, as he ran out the door for work.

“About what?”

“That robot thing,” scowled Karura. “Last night he tried to get in bed with me.”

“What?” demanded Rasa.

“He tried to get in bed with me!” repeated Karura. “I was asleep, and I thought I heard you come in, but then I realised it was that thing. I want him gone, Rasa. I’ve shut him down and I want you to have him melted down. I don’t want any more robots in the house. I want my husband.”

“He tried to get in bed with you?” Rasa shook his head in disbelief. “I told him, he has to spend nights recharging. Was it something I texted?”

“Something you texted?” repeated Karura. “Why would that affect anything?”

“The robot receives his intelligence from my social media,” said Rasa. “If I send you a text, he knows what I said and what I want and what I’m like.”

“No wonder he called me sugar-tits!” hissed Karura, grabbing Rasa by the lapels of his work suit. “I want him gone, Rasa!”

“It’s all right!” assured Rasa. “We can fix this. I’ll see if we can get him reprogrammed...maybe he needs clearer commands.”

“No, get rid of him!” insisted Karura. “He’s horrible. He’s like echoes of you, and it’s so weird. I just want my husband and my family back the way we were.”

“Good morning, Karura,” greeted the robot.

Karura startled.

“Robot dad looked sad,” said Kankuro, peering behind the figure of the robot. “So I turned him back on again.”

“I am sorry that I hugged you,” said Robot Rasa.

“I want a hug,” insisted Kankuro. He tugged at the arm of the robot, and then wrapped his arms around the robot’s waist, laying his head against the robot’s chest, hugging him in a way he had not hugged Rasa in years.

Rasa felt his heart tug and twist in two, and then he swallowed. The robot reached down curiously, and laid his hands on Kankuro’s shoulders, hugging him back.

Rasa touched Karura’s cheek. “I have a better idea.”

* * *

Robot Rasa let Rasa dress him in a suit, and let him hand him his Employee ID card and car keys.

“You can take the car,” said Rasa. “The coordinates for work are in the sat-nav. You can do my job for me today, because I want to spend time with my family.”

“Yes, Rasa,” said the robot.

“Go on, go!” ordered Rasa. “I’m late as it is.”

“Dad, why aren’t you going to work?” asked Temari, as the robot headed out the door. “And how are we getting to school?”

“You’re not going to school today,” announced Rasa. “You’re all sick, or at least the school thinks so. Today is a family day, and we’re spending time together.”

“I think you’re the one who might be ill,” quipped Kankuro.

“I’m not ill,” said Rasa. “Take your school uniform off and put those pjs back on. This morning, I’m making waffles.”

* * *

Karura stared at her plate of waffles. There were berries, honey, butter, fried eggs and bacon and whatever she wanted to have with them, but the whole thing seemed surreal. Shukaku sulked next to Gaara, who fed him slices of bacon. The events of the past few days, and the incident last night, weighed heavily on her mind.

Briefly, she wondered if robots could develop minds of their own. If maybe the echoes of Rasa within the robot were sparking ignition to life, and the robot would become their own person in time. With affection and designs on her.

Karura shuddered at the idea of a silicone mould of her husband’s cock penetrating her, and laid down her fork.

“Everyone full?” asked Rasa.

“Sure, thanks dad,” said Temari.

“I thought we could play a board game. Like when you were little and we all went camping,” said Rasa. “Or watch a film. Or both. I can go and fetch us popcorn?”

Karura leant her head on her palm thoughtfully.

“Are you all right, dear?” asked Rasa.

“Fine,” said Karura.

She stared back out, at the garden, and at the herbs she grew, wondering why she felt so strange. And then it struck her. It had taken her husband creating a robotic clone of himself, and that robotic clone attempting to sleep with her, to readjust his priorities and spend some time together as a family.

Didn’t he love them anymore? Did he simply take them all for granted? And that when that was threatened with being taken away...only then he cared?

Karura felt tears pooling behind her lashes.

“Mum, why are you crying?” asked Gaara.

“Hayfever,” corrected Karura, blinking the tears away. “Go on. Go and play with Shukaku. Temari, why don’t you pick the film, and Kankuro, you can pick the game? I don’t want any squabbling!”

Karura fled out to the garden, where she pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes.

* * *

Rasa settled the children on the sofa, and let Shukaku sit in his armchair. Shukaku still hissed at him anyway, but it wasn’t his most angry hiss. He’d just pressed play and taken his place between Kankuro and Temari, with Gaara on his lap, when the sound of his car pulling up in the driveway startled him.

Robot Rasa clamoured out.

Thinking the stupid piece of machinery had gotten lost, Rasa picked up Gaara and placed him down in his spot. He opened the door.

“I told you to go to work,” ordered Rasa.

“I did go to work,” replied Robot Rasa.

“It’s eleven am,” retorted Rasa. “You have to stay there until six pm.”

“The Third Boss told me I was not necessary,” said Robot Rasa.

Rasa blinked. “What?”

“He has said that he wants human employees, not robots,” said Robot Rasa. “And that if by sending a robot version of yourself, you clearly don’t value your job or the work you do. Therefore, you are now redundant.”

Rasa swallowed. “Is this a joke?”

“I cannot joke,” said Robot Rasa. “None of my programming from your social media or instant messages contain any jokes, and if they did, this is not something you would find funny.”

Rasa stared at the robot, at his clone gazing back at him.

“Who is it, dear?” called Karura, her voice thick and husky.

“I don’t want to be you,” said Robot Rasa. “I want to be my own person. I want my own job that I will like. I want a wife and I want children. If you don’t want yours, I’ll take them.”

* * *

Sasori let his brogues tap all the way up the stairs, before he paused in front of the Third boss’s office. He rapped against the door with his knuckles, although he knew it was merely a show of formality, and he didn’t have to knock for his favourite piece of art.

“Come in!” called the Third boss.

Sasori opened the door, and settled on the desk in front of the Third boss.

“Hello Sasori,” greeted the Third boss. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You fired Rasa,” stated Sasori.

“I did,” said the Third boss. “Was that something I should have done?”

Sasori hummed. “I found it rather unexpected. But I believe it is something you would have done. I would have liked to install him as the Fourth boss at some point, and then I could have a collection.”

“Perhaps you will find a way to make your collection complete regardless.”

“Perhaps,” agreed Sasori. He pulled out the Third boss’s phone, and scrolled down to his contact name, before tapping out a message, which he sent to himself.

“I love you, Sasori,” said the Third boss.

“I love you too,” said Sasori. “And it’s so lovely that you can work here, while I keep your flesh and blood at home with me, loving me.”

The Third boss nodded, and then tucked away several papers, tidying his desk. Sasori glanced at the clock, and realised the late hour. He hopped off the desk, and tucked his coat around himself.

Just before he left, he turned his head over one shoulder. “Don’t forget to put yourself on the charge, dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh dear! I wonder what will happen to them all...


End file.
